


Port of Call

by keraunoscopia



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - Bookshop, Beach Holidays, Hook-Up, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 05:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13381509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keraunoscopia/pseuds/keraunoscopia
Summary: Sonny Carisi sat on a stool, elbows resting heavily on the counter, chin against his fists, gaze trained out the front window, panes of glass decorated with neatly stenciled letters, and watched the tourists all duck inside cafes and shops. He hadn’t had a customer all day, not that it was really a surprise. Up until a few minutes ago, it had been a picturesque summer day, blue skies and bright sun, the tourists were more concerned with the beach, and fresh lobster, and ice cream than a second hand bookshop.





	Port of Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is just gratuitous indulgence because its winter here and I miss spending my summers on Nantucket.

The rain was coming down in heavy sheets, drenching the inhabitants of the town, all scurrying for cover as another crack of lightning skittered across the sky, the deafening clap of thunder following closely on its heels. 

Sonny Carisi sat on a stool, elbows resting heavily on the counter, chin against his fists, gaze trained out the front window, panes of glass decorated with neatly stenciled letters, and watched the tourists all duck inside cafes and shops. He hadn’t had a customer all day, not that it was really a surprise. Up until a few minutes ago, it had been a picturesque summer day, blue skies and bright sun, the tourists were more concerned with the beach, and fresh lobster, and ice cream than a second hand bookshop. 

The tinkling chime of the bell over the door pulled his attention away from the droplets flecking the front window, and he cocked his head, looking at the drenched and dripping figure with mild curiosity. “Sorry, do you mind?” the man ran a hand through his soaked black hair. Sonny cringed slightly, eyes glancing to the rain water pooling at the man’s feet and then to the stacks of books piled high, filling every nook and cranny of the little shop. 

“We’re open until six,” Sonny just smiled. Business was always better when the weather was a little worse, maybe he’d get a sale or two out of it. “You’re welcome to look around,” he nodded to the antique armchair in the corner of the room against the glass windows. “Or if you’re just looking to get out of the rain you can have a seat.” 

The man looked around for a few moments before his gaze fell to the book sitting in front of Sonny on the counter, “what are you reading?” His gaze lingered on the book before looking up to meet his eyes. 

Sonny’s breath caught for a moment, the brilliant green catching him off guard. He turned, reaching for the book to show him the cover, “In the Mountains in the Clouds,” he offered up, “it’s sort of a cerebral inquiry into humanity, by one of my favorite authors” he shrugged his shoulders, “have you heard of it?” 

Sonny didn’t expect the flush spreading across the man’s cheeks, a rosy hue settling on bronze skin. “I have,” he nodded, taking a step closer to the counter, holding out his hand. “I’m Rafael Barba.” 

Sonny hesitated before shaking his hand, ignoring the rain slicked slide of his skin. He let go, and turned the book over in his hands again. “Rafael Barba,” he repeated, not to anyone in particular as his eyes scanned the book cover, and then the About the Author on the back. Nantucket wasn’t the Hamptons, but certainly wasn’t a stranger to their fair share of celebrities. Still, Sonny had never considered the possibility that one of his idols might ever walk through that front door. “Sorry, I’m Sonny. I mean, I guess it’s cheesy to say but your books changed my life.” 

“I suppose normally I’d brush that off as ass-kissing, but given you started with the compliments before you knew who you were talking to, I’ll just say I’m flattered,” Rafael replied with a shrug of his shoulders, nosing through the stack of books closest to him. 

“What brings you out to Nantucket?” Sonny asked curiously, leaning forward to rest against the counter again, eyes following the man’s careful browsing. “I mean, obviously it’s a popular vacation spot…” he backpedaled awkwardly, reaching up to tuck loose curls behind his ear, inwardly cursing. 

Rafael didn’t look up, just pulled a tattered novel off one of the shelves, thumbing through worn pages, “I’ve been dealing with a bit of writer’s block, honestly,” he admitted before closing the book and tucking it under his arm, wandering further down the booklined corridor. “It’s been almost a year since my last, my publisher has been breathing down my neck, I thought maybe a change of scenery would help.” 

Another clap of thunder shook the rafters of the building, and the lights flickered off and on. Rafael didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t seem bothered, just pulled another book off the shelves. Sonny wasn’t sure what to say, just traced the embossed letters on the cover of the book in front of him. 

“So how does one come to work at a second hand bookstore in Nantucket?” Rafael asked after disappearing from view around a corner. The rows of books had no real rhyme or reason to them, shelves had been placed without any general care for organization, just more to fill the space. 

“I own the place, actually,” Sonny called back. The lights flickered again. Another clap of thunder, and he thought he could hear the downpour increase its intensity. “It was my grandfather’s left it to me when he died,” he wasn’t sure why he offered up the information, but the words tumbled out of his mouth anyway. 

Rafael’s head reappeared around the corner, green eyes glinting even in the shadows of the shelving. He had an arm full of books, but didn’t say a word, only dumped the stack on the counter in front of Sonny. The sound startled the shopkeep, more than the claps of thunder and cracks of lightning still echoing in the distance. 

Sonny picked up one of the books, old, tattered, he hadn’t even realized it was in the store, “you don’t have this already?” He mumbled with a raised eyebrow, wondering if Rafael even realized what he had selected. 

“Mother Night? Of course, I still have my copy from when I read it in high school,” Rafael paused, a soft smile playing across his lips, “I’m sure any reasonably competent seller of books would realize they’ve got a first edition on their hands, and I can’t resist Vonnegut.”

Sonny just smiled, fingers caressing the yellowing pages almost lovingly before ringing up the rest of the books. His eyes traced the sharp features in front of him, strong jaw, pointed nose, those green eyes, Rafael cocked his head and Sonny dropped his gaze, muttering the total. The author pulled out a money clip, handing over a few bills. Sonny returned his change, and stacked the books carefully in a paper bag before glancing over his shoulder out the window. Still pouring.

“Are you in town alone?” he asked curiously. The rain might have been enough of a reason to linger, but Sonny found himself worried the man would leave, disappear into the downpour. 

Rafael nodded slowly, “I rented a cottage out on the beach, told myself I’d stay holed up until I got through a first draft, but, well, I grew up in New York City, isolation has never been a friend of mine.” 

Another clap of thunder shook the building, startling them both. The lights flickered, and then went out. Rafael sucked in a sharp breath. Save the rain beating down on the roof, and whipping against the windows, it was still, and eerily dark, given it wasn’t quite half past five. 

“If power’s out here the whole town is out,” Sonny muttered quietly, eyes adjusting to the low light, still barely able to make out the form in front of him. 

“Power’s out, you were about to close up anyway, I don’t suppose you’d want to brave the rain to come back to my little cottage, would you?” Sonny’s eyes shot up, still able to make out the flickers of green, briefly illuminated by a stretching flash of lightning. 

Sonny’s breath caught, just the slightest hitch, and he slid off the stool, pulling the keys from his pocket. “I don’t suppose you have a car around?” It was meant to be a joke really, considering the man had ducked into an unsuspecting store to get out of the rain, but it came out sort of breathless instead. 

“I walked into town.” His only reply, but a little water never hurt anyone. 

Sonny nodded, walking towards the door, pulling it open to the deafening roar of rain striking the pavement, mist already settling on his skin. Rafael brushed past him, shoulder against shoulder, needlessly close as he stepped out into the storm. Sonny pulled the door closed behind him, turning the key in the lock, double checking with a rattle of the antique wood, and then he turned to Rafael, the rain already soaking through their clothes, hair slicked against his forehead. 

Even like that, rain drenched and disheveled, Sonny couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was, long eyelashes blinking back rain droplets, green eyes glimmering with a hint of something he couldn’t place, but still made his stomach churn. He swallowed, ducking his head against the unrelenting onslaught, another crack of thunder. Rafael held out his hand again. 

He wasn’t sure why he had agreed to this, he was a creature of comfort, never stepped outside of his comfort zone. He had lived in the same town his entire life, had worked in the same bookstore since he was twelve years old. Hell he’d left his little island only three times. And yet he couldn’t deny the surge of electricity up his arm as Rafael entwined their rain slicked hands, guiding him out of the town center towards the shore. 

His tee shirt and jeans were clinging uncomfortably to his skin as they reached the beach, thankful that it had been a hot day, the rain on his skin still a welcome relief, and he turned to the shore, white wave breaks pounding the rocky outcrops, creeping up the sand. He couldn’t see the cottage up ahead, but Sonny had lived there long enough to know exactly where they were going, the little rental right on the shore. 

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Rafael murmured, pausing to look out over the sea, shoes sinking into wet sand. Sonny stopped beside him, their hands still entwined, shoulder bumping against shoulder. “Seeing it like this, you can totally understand why so many great writers were inspired by the sea.”

Sonny glanced out over the ocean, not really sure what he was searching for, but something hidden in the waves. He glanced to Rafael, caught a dart of deep green, and his skin prickled, hairs rising on his arms, the back of his neck. 

He hesitated when they reached the front door of the cottage, finally ducking out of the rain under the shelter of the small front porch. He pulled his hand from Rafael’s grasp, using both to slick back his drenched curls. Rafael didn’t bother to do the same, just stepped a little closer, movements painstakingly slow, hips pressing against Sonny’s, his hand reaching up to curl around the back of Sonny’s neck. 

He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, beating an unsteady rhythm against his rib cage. Sonny let his hands drop, resting on Rafael’s hips, thumbs grazing the cling of wet cotton against bronze skin. He bowed his head, and Rafael rose to meet him, hot breath ghosting over flushed lips, hovering just barely apart, anticipation coursing through his veins.

Rafael’s heated lips against his own, hands grasping at him with an almost desperate fervor stirred something inside Sonny that he’d never felt before. He took a step forward, and then another, backing Rafael up against the door, hand slipping under the hem of his shirt, shuddering under the touch. 

Rafael pulled away, reluctance clear across his features, and Sonny opened his mouth, question forming, but the writer just turned to open the door, pulling Sonny inside. The door swung closed, and Sonny wasn’t sure if it was the slam against the door jam or another clap of thunder that startled him more, but before he could pause to think about it, Rafael’s hands were tugging at the hem of his soaked shirt, peeling it off over his head. Sonny shivered as the cool air hit his skin, still rain damp and glistening in the low light. 

He swallowed and reached for the buttons of Rafael’s shirt, prying each one open slowly, long fingers decidedly delicate, and he could feel the hitch of Rafael’s breath, the tension under his skin, muscles trembling ever so slightly as Sonny revealed the soft expanse of bronze skin. He reached the last button, fingers grazing hesitantly over the waist of Rafael’s pants before he reached up to push the shirt off his shoulders, letting the damp fabric fall to the floor. 

They exchanged no words, Sonny couldn’t think of any and wasn’t sure they needed to anyway, Rafael just led him through the small house, pushing the bedroom door open. Maybe he might have hesitated at the door, he would have, if it was anyone else, but Sonny was sure, not even fleeting doubt crossing his mind as Rafael’s skillful hands pulled open the button of his jeans, tugging them down along with his briefs. 

Rafael followed the clothes to the ground, dropping to his knees, hands sliding up muscular thighs. Sonny drew in an unsteady breath, and Rafael looked up at him, dark hazy green through long lashes. “Can I?” Rafael asked, implication clear enough, and Sonny twitched, already embarrassingly hard, the writer’s hot breath whispering across his heated skin. Sonny just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

Sonny hissed as long fingers wrapped around him, callouses pulling at sensitive skin excruciatingly slow. Rafael glanced up at him again, a smirk playing across his lips before he leaned in, dragging the flat of his tongue over the blunt head teasingly. Sonny’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a soft gasp as his hands twisted in Rafael’s wet locks. 

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room through sheer curtains, a reverberating clap of thunder on its heels, shaking the rafters of the small cottage, but Sonny couldn’t bring himself to notice, head swimming with pleasure as Rafael took his entire length into his mouth with a practiced ease. He didn’t bother trying to bite back a loud moan, knees buckling as Rafael bobbed his head, tongue swirling expertly, fingers grasping at the back of his thighs. 

Sonny gasped as Rafael withdrew, breathless and chin glistening, green eyes dilated to nearly black, he’d never seen such a beautiful sight as the writer, on his knees in front of him. Sonny’s fingers tightened in black hair, tugging Rafael upright. “You okay?” Rafael whispered out hoarsely, but Sonny just reached for the waistband of Rafael’s pants, sliding them off his hips. He leaned in, teeth grazing the crook of Rafael’s neck before biting down sharply, dragging a low groan out of the writer. 

Sonny licked over the bite, tracing his tongue up to the soft stubble of his jaw, breath ghosting over Rafael’s ear, “I want to fuck you,” Sonny whispered, voice as thick as honey. Rafael tilted his head as Sonny’s lips returned to his neck, nursing a purple bruise into his skin. “Is that okay?” 

Rafael pulled Sonny’s hips against his, grip bruising, relishing the spit slicked slide of Sonny’s hardened length against his own. “Fuck” he hissed, “yeah, please,” his voice tinged with just a bit of desperation that rocked through Sonny like a jolt of electricity. Rafael pulled away from his grasp, turning to rummage through a suitcase sitting on the luggage rack, and Sonny couldn’t help but let his eyes wander brazenly over his silhouette.

Rafael crossed the room in a few strides, body immediately flush against Sonny’s, and he leaned in, impish grin playing across swollen lips, “how do you want me?” It was all the encouragement he needed, and he pushed Rafael back onto the bed, splayed beautifully against navy sheets. 

“Just like this,” Sonny hummed appreciatively, settling between toned thighs, reaching to take the bottle from Rafael’s grasp. The writer just propped himself up on his elbows, green eyes trained on the man in front of him, watching him flip the lid open and coat his fingers. 

Rafael’s head lolled back, a soft moan escaping parted lips at the gentle intrusion, withdrawing and pressing back into him slowly. Sonny bowed his head, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin on Rafael’s inner thigh, biting down lightly before adding another finger. 

His arms buckled, and he dropped back to the bed, face twisting with pleasure, grinding down as Sonny added a third finger, sucking purple bruises on the inside of his thigh. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Sonny whispered, ice blue eyes meeting emerald green. 

Rafael reached down, twisting his fingers in dark blond curls, still damp from the rain, and another clap of thunder shook the house, settling into his bones. “Please,” it came out more like a keen as Sonny crooked his fingers, and Rafael’s chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm, breath catching. “That’s enough just fuck me.” Sonny could barely believe how quickly the man had come unraveled under his careful touch, sprawled out like an angel against the navy backdrop, skin slick from rain and sweat, hair still drenched and absolutely wrecked. 

Another clap of thunder, the storm was closer now, rain beating down on the tin shingles of the roof. Sonny settled back on his heels, nimble fingers tearing open the foil packet, rolling the condom over his length, still painfully hard. He leaned forward again, nudging against Rafael’s entrance. “Are you sure?” he murmured softly, eyes darting up to meet green, searching for reassurance. 

“Absolutely,” Rafael exhaled, hooking heels behind Sonny’s thighs, pulling him closer. With one slow roll of his hips, he sank into Rafael’s tight heat, a soft sigh slipping from his lips. The writer tipped his head back, hands twisting to grasp at the sheets as his body relaxed to accommodate the welcome intrusion. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Sonny moaned, bracing his arms on either side of Rafael’s head. Another clap of thunder rattled the house, so loud he could have sworn the storm was right there in the room. Rafael’s hands clawed at his back, hips canting off the bed to meet Sonny’s shallow thrusts. 

“Please, please” Rafael begged again, body quivering under the younger man. Sonny dropped his head, pressing the writer into a bruising kiss, nipping at his bottom lip, and then his jaw, and neck, sinking his teeth in just a little harder. A flash of lightning, and then another illuminated the room, light catching the sheen on Rafael’s bronze skin, and Sonny quickened his thrusts, hips snapping in a bruising rhythm, drawing a loud moan from the writer as he hit just the right spot inside him. 

Another bolt of lightning, the crack of thunder that followed, rain an unrelenting cacophony, Sonny could here it all, feel it all, like his body had been opened up, raw and sensitive to every bit of sensation. He pressed his face into Rafael’s neck, breathing in the smell of sweat and rainwater still lingering, could hear the hitch of Rafael’s breath, the gasps for air before a loud moan as the writer tipped over the edge, erupting untouched between them, painting an opalescent hue across bronze skin.

The tightening clench of muscle around Sonny, the sound of pleasure echoing in his ears, the trembling body underneath him was enough to send him crashing over the edge with a few erratic thrusts, a loud moan ripped from his lungs as thunder cracked overhead. His chest heaved as he gasped to catch his breath. He withdrew, and collapsed, shaking and spent next to Rafael. 

The writer just turned on his side, nosing his face against Sonny’s neck, slinging an arm across his chest, still rising and falling unsteadily. “That was…” Rafael trailed off, apparently at a loss for words. 

They were unnecessary anyway, “yeah,” Sonny mumbled his agreement. He wasn’t sure how much later it was, when Rafael fell asleep against his shoulder, but it felt like only moments, rain still beating down on the roof, flashes of lightning still flickering through the sheer curtains, the intermittent claps of thunder still seizing in his chest.

Sonny waited, until he was sure, and then slipped slowly out of Rafael’s grasp, picking up the damp garments still littered across the floor before disappearing into the storm. 

* * *

When Sonny woke the next morning, golden rays were peering through the slatted blinds drawn over his windows, sky blue and unclouded, no hint or trace of the storm that had battered the island the night before. He glanced in the mirror as he dressed for work, let his finger tips graze the purple marks Rafael had left on his shoulder, a reminder that it hadn’t been a dream, not some sort of wild figment of his imagination. 

In the light of the morning, he almost wished he hadn’t left. He could have been waking up to bronze skin, black hair and green eyes, the most brilliant brain he’d ever had the opportunity to explore. But then, they’d be having the conversation, the one Sonny’d had too often growing up in a resort town. The “this was vacation but I have to go back to the real world now” conversation. It had never really bothered him before, but now, the thought of Rafael leaving the island, considering everything that had happened between them a quick fling churned his stomach. 

He skipped breakfast and opted for coffee as he walked down the stairs into the bookstore, his apartment on the floor above. He woudn’t open the shop for another hour, still only eight AM, and not even summer tourists were interested in being up this early, at least not for used books. 

Instead he wandered up and down the rows, checking for gaps, for books out of place. Most wouldn’t have seen any rhyme or reason for the way the books were organized, but Sonny had a system, one that had served his grandfather well, one that he could never bring himself to change. 

He hesitated at one shelf, eyes lingering over the spine of a book. _Rafael Barba._ He sighed and reached for it, pulling it off the shelf. It was stupid, a senseless attachment, but still he couldn’t bring himself to leave it there for anyone to buy. Tracing the embossed cover with his thumb, he settled into the antique armchair. He’d read all of Rafael’s books before, devoured them as soon as they came out, reread with equal fervor. He let the book fall open in his lap, and paused when he noted the scrawled pencil on the inside cover. 

A note. 

He lept from the chair ungracefully, the book falling from his lap and sliding across the floor, but he paid it no mind, just pushed through the front door, barely pausing to lock it behind him as he ran for the shore. The beach was still empty this early, the townsfolk and tourists still settling in for breakfast, and Sonny was grateful as he reached the little cottage, framed by rocky outcroppings, the tide rolling in with a vengeance.

But the car that had sat in the driveway the night before was no longer, and Sonny could feel his heart sinking in his chest as he took the steps up onto the porch. He knocked on the door, knuckles stinging from the splintered wood. 

No answer. 

He leaned in to peer through the glass panes, the house was still dark, but all of the traces from the night before were gone.

Too late.


End file.
